It was a Dark and Stormy Night
by PrincessIxi
Summary: Even young Masters get scared of the dark sometimes. An original!Luke and Guy drabble


**Title **It was a Dark and Stormy Night

**Rating **PG because I like to be safe

**Category **Tales of the Abyss

**Paring **/

**Author's Note **I was doodling a picture of original!Luke with the caption 'I had a nightmare, Guy' in mind, then more words formed until I had a small scene placed out and thought screw it –writes down because Asch ( in whatever form ) and Guy get no love- cuz when _I_ was a kid I'd totter down the looooong hallway ( or run ) with my cuddle toy and leap into my parents beds

And I have no idea what the castle layout is like. So I'm making it up x3

**Disclaimer **Hm. Not mine XD funny that

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The window has a broken hinge, so it groans angrily as the wind batters it from the outside. As the wind dies down, the window opens a crack, then snaps shut loudly each time the gust comes back with a vengeance. This nuisance has been the reason for keeping Guy up so late. The _whoosh, creak, wham _at first alarms him, and even though Guy doesn't_ believe_ in ghosts. . you never know.

At first Guy was glad to finally be moved away from the servant quarters. A large portion of vassals were expected to sleep comfortably in a room fit for maybe three people. And it's not just the size. The snoring, and kicking, and getting robbed of your blankets in the middle of the night, or being pushed out of your bed, and don't even get him started on the sexually frustrated ones. . _honestly_. The castle has enough unoccupied rooms, you'd think the Duke would come off his high horse for once and _give_ a little to the world. But nooo. Guy had always been a personal play thing of the Dukes, and instead of allocating new rooms, he's "promoted" the blonde to personal vassal of his brat of a son.

O_kay_.

Maybe if Guy doesn't look at it through the lenses of revenge tinted glasses, Luke isn't so bad. He can handle a sword well, and stick up for himself, and has the mindset of a leader, but as soon as the kid gets into one of his moods, he becomes un_bearable_. He doesn't exactly yell, or whinge but he doesn't _need_ to because his freaking _look _is enough and good_ Gods_ he can be like a bull in a rut sometimes, and why the _hell_ Guy hasn't run him through with a sword yet is beyond him.

But back to the room. It's about a hallway down from the little Master's bedroom, and it amusing to note that his parents are practically at the other end of the castle. Guy the Nanny. Ha fucking_ ha_.

And now that he's actually in the room, Guy starts to see what's wrong with it. Apart from the squeaky window, the floor boards are warped, some of the drawers are rotted through with mould, the four poster bed has _three_ posters; the ruby drapes moth eaten, and not to mention his windows have _no_ curtains to top that off; sunlight waking him as soon as the rooster crows, the cupboard jams when you close it, the dressing table mirror is cracked in places, at certain weather conditions there is either a draft in the far left corner, or rain comes in from the far right, and finally there's a very ominous stain on the cracked and peeling wall. The Fabre's maybe be rich, but not every room is kept in top form. So there are many rooms in this state. But there are just as many rooms _not _in this state, said rooms being all down the corridor, but no, he had to be put in this one.

Not that he would say it, but he almost wants to go back, only having to deal with mildew because the servant quarters are underground, rock solid and heats like an oven in winter.

So right now Guy can feel the draft, and the rain and hear the creaking and banging all in one go. Sleep doesn't look promising.

It seems even less promising when the door grumbles open and makes him jump. Very appropriately, Guy thinks, thunder rumbles and after a seconds delay; lightning joints in, illuminating the pale silhouette of a cowering Luke. This fluctuating weather has been happening on and off all night.

Even though he's in the room frightened and holding something, Luke doesn't advance any further, as if waiting for permission. Which is. . . weird. Luke knows how to be polite when it counts, but most of the time barges in on Guy, talks back to him, or leaps onto his back and demands a 'horsey back ride' without batting an eyelid. Guy guesses that he might not know that he's awake, even though he'd jumped when he had come in.

"Master Luke?"

Guy can only make out the shine of Luke's eyes, reflecting in the dim, cloud covered moonlight, and the messy spikes of bed hair, so isn't too sure if he's even heard the call over the pound of rain-

". . . I had a nightmare," the small voice blurts out, bordering the line of being embarrassed. Then a loud boom of thunder swiftly followed by lightning whites the room again, granting Guy a look at Luke's wince of silent terror; eyes screwing up and shoulders hunching, arms protectively clasped round a well love cheagle toy. The second bolt being too much, Luke forgets his shame and throws himself onto the bed and right into Guy's lap, head down and facing away from the bare window.

"Hey now. It's okay. It's only a bit of thunder," Guy wants to reassure the quivering boy, rearranging his legs so they won't start cramping because Luke isn't going anywhere in a hurry.

Now the racket dims to only the drizzle of rain, Luke cautiously peeps up through his wild red hair, then his eyes narrow. "I knew you wouldn't understand," he accuses, and Guy doesn't need light, because he can feel the angered blush of intense shame radiating off Luke's cheeks. The boy's who age hasn't even reached the double digits yet, scared of the dark and thunder and lightning and being in a cavernous room all by himself. Of course he understands.

Gently, Guy pulls the crinkled covers back up, lying them down round Luke's small shoulders, the boy glancing curiously at his working hands. "You're a smart boy, aren't you Luke?" the vassal asks, deciding to drop the formalities.

"Of course I am," Luke pouts, hands resting on Guys knees, the toy having been dropped on the way over.

"Then you know what thunder, and lightning is, don't you?"

"I-I didn't say I was scared," Luke says quickly, glaring just a little. Smiling and moving his face closer to Luke's, Guy whispers theatrically-

"If it makes you feel any better, I won't tell anyone."

For a second Luke looks conflicted, then sighs in resignation. "Well. F-fine. If you must know. . I had a dream the whole world was falling down around me, and when I woke up, I could hear the thunder. It's scary, you know," he adds, trying to defend himself from being so weak.

"Thunder isn't anything to be afraid of, Luke."

"Ye-yeah it is! It's so loud, and it's coming from right above- like something about to fall out of the sky."

Slowly, Guy manages to slide Luke off his legs, and lay him down beside him, pausing to lean down to the ground to snatch up his cheagle cuddle toy. Then he grabs the thicker blankets and wraps them both up. Propping himself up on one elbow, Guy looks down at Luke.

"But did you know that the thunder is just Yulia?" He asks curiously, retelling the tale his mother had told him long ago. Face just visible above the blankets, Luke shakes his head. "Yup. Yulia's up there, rearranging her castle in the clouds. You know why thunder makes that noise? It's the sound of Yulia moving her furnishings around. And those flashes of lightning is her throwing her old items down to earth, the objects moving so fast they make light. You know she's the one who also causes it to rain and wind to. If it's a down pour like this, she's taking a shower. If it's light, she's crying. And the wind is caused whenever she plays her flute, and all the air from the bottom of the flute rushes down to earth."

Childishly, Luke's eyes light up at the fairy tale, but then realisation dawns. "Wait. . . Yulia doesn't live in a castle!"

"Heh. Shows how much you know," Guy teases, and Luke just huffs in an annoyed way, now not too sure what to believe in. "So," Guy breathes, pleased with himself for making Luke calm down. "Do you think you can make it back to your own bed now?"

Inappropriately the window bangs shut, making Luke cringe and cling onto Guy and undoing all of the blonde's hard work. Annoyed with himself, Luke stubbornly rolls over and hugs his toy instead.

"I'm tired! I'll just sleep here tonight," the red head announces, and Guy rolls his eyes upwards, then shifts away from Luke, hoping for some form of sleep to come soon. But of course it doesn't come. Now with someone next to him, it just adds to the annoyances. Somehow the kids fast asleep, even with the racket outside going on. Guy glances over just to make sure Luke _is _asleep, and finds the child's eye lids flickering and lips moving and from time to time his body convulsing. Having a dream no doubt, Guy surmises, reaching a hand out to stroke Luke's forehead until the lines smooth out and he stops moving.

Luke's now even breath puffs across his bare wrist, and Guy's never killed a person, let alone an innocent one before. However, through some odd logic, Guy doesn't _see _Luke as innocent. He's as much a part of this as his father. There _is_ no rationalising it. It just makes Guy feel _better_ about doing it.

All over his room are weapons. His faithful scabbard is leaning by the door, in the drawer by his bed as knives and twine. The hilts of the knives can unscrew, to reveal small phials of poison. Under Guy's bed are chains, rusty metal edges and shields. And in his closet hangs an axe half his body size- not that he uses it mind. It's not just that. His whole body is a weapon too. His arms, hands, teeth and nails, legs and head even.

Dead people look like sleeping people. Eyes closed, cheeks a fake red and lying sprawled and twisted. The only different is that Luke's mouth is open, and his chest is rising slowly. Killing a person is easy too. When he trains with Van, whenever he parries and knocks Guy to the ground, the skin that's exposed breaks open. It's that easy.

The window bangs hard.

Guy is knocked out of his thoughts, finding himself leaning dangerously over Luke, arms braced on either side of the boy, as if he was in the process of doing something climatic. At the sound, Luke jolts, glancing sleepily up at Guy who covers the mistake by leaning the rest of the way over to pull up the kicked off blankets.

"Do you get scared to, Guy?"

"What?"

Guys tried and fed up, so it comes out rudely as he turns back over.

"Excuse me, Master Luke," the red head corrects him automatically, and Guy glances over his shoulder, finding a half awake Luke trying to look back at him. His hair has grown longer over the past few months, almost past his shoulders, and maybe it's a growingup-hormones thing, but the roots are coming through a rich blood red instead of amber.

"I'm not scared of anything," Guy assures Luke, who wriggles his nose at him.

"Then why did you look so spooked when you were leaning over me?"

He doesn't remember feeling anything- only thinking of reaching down and pressing his thumbs to Luke's trachea and- and isn't he strong enough in his resolve? As Luke dozes back off, Guy switches his thoughts back to darkers ones, mind calm, but as he stretches a hand out to the red banisters hanging on the three posts, it trembles.

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**END**


End file.
